NIGHT BONES

when the long day climbs down its own bones
and
the
night calls time on the day
with
bells only birds hear
and
front rooms glow yellow and blue and quiet
then
artificial suns 
on 
concrete sticks
create themselves in crazy flickers
and
shine sick orange
on
the
mist slick black top of cul-de-sacs and crescents 
and
the no-mans-land of roundabout junctions
where
thin bold foxes prowl
by
truckers thrown lunch 
and
hatchbacks cool their engines 
clicking apologies at the stars
and
slow stepping alley cats
sit
silent
between plastic wheelie bins
their 
lids lifted high with xmas kipple

thats

when
theres a pause 
in
the worlds pumping breaths 
and 
the
lucky
can
rest 
hand in hand
in the warmth 
of 
nights 
dull 
pockets

from jamiehallphotography.photoshelter.com